“When are we?” she asks.
“26th June. 2005.”
“Hm.”
The party sounds could be heard, the lights and people contained in a small space within the darkness that was our view from the park opposite.
“You don’t remember?”
“No.”
I sigh. Look up to the stars above. I’m not sure if I do myself. Was this just a fragmentation of my own disillusion? The stars were out, I remember that. Saufi was lying on a table at the other end of the park, heartbroken over a girl who wouldn’t dance with him. The recollection is fuzzy, but I remember her with me. I’m not surprised she doesn’t.
“I guess it’s not important.”
“What happened here?”
“I think I fell in love.”